by Tom Fletcher
She glances around the room.
‘Creating and killing,’ I say, agog.
‘Be thankful you’re not part of the experiment.’
‘But I already am, aren’t I? “Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh …” ’ I quote, edging closer to her as the contempt inside me builds.
She doesn’t deny my assumption.
‘There was never going to be a Revival ceremony, was there?’ I say, the words making sense as I hear them. ‘It was always planned to be this way.’
‘I shouldn’t … I can’t …’
Another lie.
Before I can stop her, she reaches for an insistent phone and puts it to her ear. ‘She’s here,’ she hisses. ‘Come quickly.’
With no time to think I simply act. I grab hold of a metal fire extinguisher and start by whacking the locks on the door several times, breaking their mechanism and hopefully buying myself a few moments more. Then I start swiping the tables clear of their contents. The glass containers tumble and smash, the metal equipment clanks, the wood snaps and splinters – all of it falling to the floor with a deafening noise, filling me with conviction and rage, propelling me to the next workstation on the route of my destruction. I want it all gone. They can’t be allowed to play God – to pick and choose which experiment gets to live and which to die.
My body moves like it’s not my own, my burning muscles becoming more frantic by the second. My mind focuses on the initial reason for my being here: my retrieved egg. I think of it in this laboratory of horror and let out a cry of fury. It could be anywhere within these walls so everything becomes a target.
Fighting blind, I decide I won’t stop until there’s nothing left to smash and destroy, so that none of it can be used in this way again.
Clearly worried that her team of helpers aren’t coming quickly enough, Dr Rankin tries to take control of the situation. Her arms wrap around my chest while she attempts to pull me back from a workstation I’m obliterating. I manage to shake her off, pushing her to the floor again with a thump.
I leave her and move on, lifting the red metal weapon above my head to swing it into a row of test tubes and Bunsen burners, but Dr Rankin tries again.
Her hand reaches out and grabs my ankle. I struggle to get away from her tight grip. I look around me. I see all the equipment and experiments waiting to be demolished and groan in frustration. I shake my foot manically, feeling her hold loosen. Somehow managing to pull it free, I hear her cry of horror as I run across the room.
I fly around creating chaos, screaming as I go. Sweat drips off my back as I sweep, smash, hit and throw every object within my reach. Running around the room like a human hurricane, I ache to destroy everything in my sight. At first I had hoped to find the parts of my soul they’d extracted from me, but now, with adrenalin pumping through me, I’m charged with a fire and hatred I’ve never let free before. I feel alive, I feel wicked, and I feel driven. A powerful force from within shows me I’m far more physically capable than I could have imagined. It leads me on. It goads me. These lives they’ve created and destroyed, these experiments they’ve conjured and failed at are all the result of their barbarism. I want it all gone. I don’t want them to be able to create perfect little boys only to dispose of them because they’re surplus to requirements. I don’t want to be a part of their lie.
The banging at the door reminds me I don’t have long to act. They’ll be in here soon to drag me back upstairs to carry on living the life they’ve planned for me. I was never their creation, and it angers me that they’ve had such a say in the way I live my life.
I break anything I can get my hands on – not just for me, but for any child being brought, wanted or not, into their care.
53
Bram
We sail home in silence. There were no bodies to recover. No possessions to bring back with us. Frost and Johnny are gone.
All that remained was a pile of rubble where the grand house once stood. Ernie’s disguised prison is no more.
As we weave slowly through the shallows of the outer city the medics go to work on Ernie.
‘He’ll make it,’ a voice says over the intercom. I slide to the back of the boat and pick up the microphone.
‘Good. How are the women?’ I ask, staring across at the pod sailing a few feet behind ours.
No reply.
‘Hello? Can you hear me?’ I ask.
‘Yes, sir,’ the voice replies, and I see the young Freever turn to me from the same position in the pod behind. His words echo in my mind. Sir. That term they used to address Frost is now aimed at me. His voice cuts through the thought: ‘The women won’t let us check them, sir.’
I stand to look at the pod carrying our newest passengers. Anne and the five other women are huddled together, trembling with so much fear that it’s visible even over the vibrations of our pods on the water.
‘We’ll do what we can though, sir. They seem physically unhurt.’
‘Thanks … What’s your name?’
‘Grobbs, sir.’
‘Thanks, Grobbs, and I’m Bram, not sir,’ I tell him, and hang up.
My head pounds with a million thoughts fighting for my attention. First Eve, always Eve. Then Ernie, but now I know he’s going to make it that thought quietens. What to do with the terrified women we’ve acquired? How to break the news of Frost’s death to the rest of his team, my team? Then my mind lands back on Eve and I hold her image there as we enter the heavier traffic of the river and the fog thickens.
Our arrival plays on my mind as I walk into the heart of the base, deep below the surface. The two women who required sedation for the descent down into the Deep are carried through the wooden halls. Chubs and Grobbs escort the others.
‘We’ll take these two straight to the medical bay with Ernie,’ Grobbs told me. ‘Follow the old signs to Peers Court and you’ll find us.’
It was a hard decision to sedate them but onlookers were beginning to notice their screams across the river as they resisted our efforts to get them through the entrance in the face of the old clock. The sound of women’s voices doesn’t go unnoticed out here. I had to make the call.
Once those two were carried carefully into the iron lift the others followed reluctantly.
Saunders and I enter the main chamber and I feel the eyes follow us as we walk beneath the overhanging balcony and between the green benches to the large oak desk. The projector still sits on the table in front of me, like a ghost of times past.
I clear my throat and the Freevers gather around. I hear Ernie’s muted groans echo through the corridors.
‘Saunders, I want you to make sure that no one has access to Ernie. Let the old man recover,’ I whisper. He nods and immediately heads back the way we came.
Suddenly I feel alone in this room of strangers, strangers awaiting news.
‘What the hell is going on?’ a voice calls.
‘Where’s Frost?’ asks another.
‘Why are there more women here? This ain’t a sanctuary,’ someone else chips in.
I hold out my arms and they fall silent, as they would have done for Frost, and I suddenly feel the weight of his responsibility on my shoulders. I look around the room at the thirty or forty pairs of eyes staring expectantly at me. More men enter on the balcony above.
I take a breath. ‘Frost is dead,’ I tell them, short and sharp, although the words sound so strange that it’s almost as if I didn’t say them. ‘Johnny too.’ Straight to the point, and to the hearts of the men in front of me.
I hear cries and sobs from the crowd. ‘Frost sacrificed himself for us, for Ernie.’
‘No, he didn’t,’ someone calls.
The crowd parts and I see Helena. A tear forms in her eye and slowly drops on to her cheek, following the wrinkles like a river.
‘I’m sorry?’ I say.
‘He didn’t sacrifice himself for you, or for Ernie,’ she chokes out. She turns her head and I follow her gaze up to the far wall, then above the balcony. Behind
the dim hanging lights suspended over our heads, carved deep into the ancient wood of the ceiling beams, two words stare down at us all: FOR EVE.
‘For Eve,’ I say in agreement.
‘For Eve,’ the room repeats.
‘He died so that we could escape, so that we could continue the fight.’ I pause. ‘No, so that we could finish the fight,’ I correct myself, and feel the shifting of feet as my words connect with the people hanging on them.
‘We have Eve’s father. If we’re going to get Eve out, he is going to play a vital part. The world needs to know his story. Eve needs to know the truth. Our priority now is his safety. I want a complete lockdown on this place. No one comes in or out of the Deep without me knowing about it first.’ As I speak, I realize that this is the first command I’ve given the group I’ve elected myself to lead.
No one questions it. They look at me, ready for my next command.
‘We are also welcoming six new female recruits. I want a section of this place made secure and comfortable for them as they adjust to life down here. Helena …’
She wipes the tears away.
‘… perhaps you can take care of that.’
She nods.
‘So what now?’ All heads turn towards the balcony and the man behind the thick glasses who is calling down. ‘You think you’re our leader?’
The heads of the men snap back to me.
I take a moment. ‘I didn’t know Frost well, not like you knew him, but he was a good man. Good enough for all of you. Good enough that you would give up your lives, commit them to him, to this place, to fighting for what you believe in,’ I say, pacing a little behind the desk. When my foot hits a little step, I stand on it, using the height to help project my voice to every listening pair of ears in the room. ‘I never meant for Eve and me to fall in love, but she needed me and I was there. Frost didn’t want to die, but we needed him and he was there. Right now, you are the only people who have a shot at getting Eve out of that place. You need a leader and I’m here.’
‘He’s right,’ Chubs calls, entering at the back of the long hall. ‘He’s bloody right. I didn’t want this EPO boy anywhere near the Deep when we first dragged his soggy arse out of the water. But he’s the only one who can get us to Eve.’
‘And you trust him?’ asks the man with the glasses from above.
‘Frost did,’ Chubs replies.
‘And look what that did to Frost,’ Glasses snaps.
‘Exactly,’ Chubs calls back. ‘He gave his life for him. He stayed behind so that this stranger could see it through. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. We’ve worked for so long, for so many years, and it all comes down to right here and now. This is the best chance we’ve ever had at freeing her, at liberating our saviour. I’m with you, Bram,’ he finishes, and the heads turn back to me.
I nod in thanks to him and look out at the crowd to see if anyone has anything to add.
Silence.
‘I won’t let Eve down and I won’t let you down either,’ I tell them all, and it’s true. I feel their passion, and the same passion is pumping through my veins. In that moment I feel I’ve found a place where I belong.
‘So what happens now?’ Chubs breaks the silence.
‘What happens next will change everything,’ I reply.
54
Eve
I’m so consumed with the urge to destroy that I don’t realize others have managed to enter the room until their hands are on me, stripping me of my makeshift weapon. A guard pushes me to the floor and pins me down, my cheek resting on the cold tiles. There’s no time for rules, barriers and boundaries – I need to be contained and stopped. Clearly by whatever means necessary. The protocols we’ve all been living by since my birth are slipping away thick and fast.
‘Get off me!’ I yell, trying to free my arms while kicking my legs. ‘You can’t do this.’
‘I’ve been told to,’ a low voice I recognize mutters.
Michael.
My mind quickly flashes back – Potential Number Two, the meeting, Diego, Mother Nina, the lift, feeling threatened, the fear, the hug, then Bram’s punch. It seems like a lifetime ago now.
‘Calm down or you’ll make this worse for yourself. Please, Eve,’ he begs, his voice just a hissed whisper as his breath warms my ear.
He releases a little of the weight he has on me so that I can turn over and take in his concerned expression, but still remain beneath him.
I start to wonder why he has been given the task of manhandling me, but quickly realize there’s no way the Mothers could have tackled me to the floor. I recognize only a few of the other faces as part of my usual team and that makes me feel uneasy.
‘Where’s Ketch? I want to speak to him. He needs to know what they’re doing here,’ I demand, trying to wriggle free. Surely none of them could’ve known about the experiments that have been taking place in this room, and as these men are here to protect me there must be a way for them to help prevent further experiments – especially if parts of me are being used to conduct them.
Michael gives an audible sigh at my reluctance to comply with his request to calm down. ‘He’s had to go out,’ he says, frowning as he looks around the room and takes in the mess I’ve made.
‘Out?’ I repeat, unable to hide my surprise. ‘Out where?’
‘I don’t know.’ He shrugs, his eyes wandering to the bloody masses on the floor.
‘My head of security has left the building and I’m not allowed to know where he’s gone?’ I push for clarification.
‘He’s on an assignment, something important,’ he says, through gritted teeth, pulling his gaze away from what he’s just seen.
‘More important than keeping me safe in here?’ I challenge.
‘You’re under no threat.’
‘You think?’ I ask, in a high-pitched squeak.
He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. His eyes go down to the floor next to us, though I can tell they want to return to the carnage of the laboratory. He, too, needs to make sense of what he’s seen.
‘Cuff her,’ the hard, cold voice of Vivian orders, as she walks into the room and renders us all silent.
Michael’s weight shifts on top of me before he tugs on my wrists and I feel the cold metal clasps shut tightly.
‘Up,’ Vivian commands.
His weight eases off me as he gets to his feet, before gently pulling me on to mine, turning me so that I’m facing her. She looks at me with disdain. Pure disgust. Her eyes scan me, taking in my bedraggled hair, my torn hospital gown, my face red from exertion and hands sore from grappling – the chaos of destruction turning me into something like a banshee.
‘Out,’ she whispers, her gaze landing at my bare and bloodied feet on the glass-scattered floor.
Michael and I don’t move, both of us seemingly waiting for more instructions or scathing remarks.
‘Now.’
Her voice is low, stern and full of hatred.
Michael takes hold of the chain between my hands and pulls me from my rooted spot, causing me to gasp at the pain from my cut feet.
We walk past Vivian, the doctor, and the others in the security team, out of the room and towards the lift.
When the door pings open Michael places me inside, but swiftly steps out. I look at his face for some kind of recognition, but his eyes are on the floor between us – clearly eager to get back to formalities.
The doors close, the lift moves. It takes only a few seconds for them to reopen on my floor.
The floor of the Dome.
My prison of lies.
Mother Tabia rushes towards me as I hobble through the doors.
‘Where on earth …?’ she hisses, as she observes the mess I’m in.
Then she sees the cuffs.
‘Oh, dear Lord.’ She drapes an arm around me and supports some of my weight.
‘Did you know?’ I whimper, feeling spent.
‘Know what?’ she asks, looking confused.
<
br /> ‘All of it.’
‘Let’s take you to your room,’ she says, holding me a little tighter into her body. ‘It’ll all be fine.’
I wish I could share her optimism.
55
Bram
‘He’s awake!’ Saunders bursts through the door to my small, damp room. Ernie has been sleeping non-stop following the events that got him down here. Losing his arm sent his frail body into shock, and for a while the small medical team here thought we might lose him, but the old man’s tough, I’ll give him that. He’s a fighter.
‘Can I see him?’ I ask, getting to my feet.
‘Of course, if that’s what you want,’ says Saunders. ‘You give the orders here now, remember?’
I’m still not used to these people looking to me for leadership. Even the ones who resented it at first have fallen into line since I delivered the news.
I still don’t know half their names – I’m not sure I’ve even met all of them yet: new faces appear constantly as I walk the hallways or stand next to me as we line up to collect meal trays. I am, however, becoming more familiar with the doctors and the medical team due to the amount of time I’ve spent with them. I’ve been continuously visiting the hospital-like rooms over the last twenty-four hours, first checking on Ernie and then our group of female guests, who are slowly accepting their new surroundings. Anne constantly brings up the fact that I’m not letting them leave the Deep.
‘What’s the point in freeing us from one prison and throwing us into another?’ she snaps.
She’s right, but I can’t let them go yet. I can’t risk the EPO finding this place, finding Ernie.
I’m doing my best to control the situation, to keep things calm and relaxed.
For now, they are kept in a separate court of this sunken maze, watched closely by Helena.
I follow Saunders from my room down Ministers’ Corridor, stepping over the thick blue piping that pumps the floodwater out of our sealed building. Although the interiors are covered with watertight wall panels and sheets of thick polythene, I’m still blown away by glimpses of the building the Freevers have commandeered. Some of the original wooden ceilings and beams poke through, like ghosts of a past life, staring down at us as we walk.